The uncontrollable power lurking beneath Princess Alethia's skin can either be the savior of the Four Kingdoms or its destruction.
Princess Alethia was raised on three principles: (1) Mercy is for the weak, (2) Emotions are an unwanted distraction...
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As Alethia awoke, the smell of pine and earth wafted into her nostrils. Her body was laid against something hard and moist while a particularly jagged object stabbed in her right thigh. For a brief moment, her crusted eyelids refused to open. A pounding sensation came from her temple. Head throbbing, she flexed her fingers and a ripple of pain shot through her body.
A groan escaped her lips as she finally forced her eyelids open. Crickets and owls sounded around her as the surrounding bushes rustled. Moonlight shone onto the clearing, allowing her to see the saddle blanket she was laying on.
Horses neighed from her side, and she looked over to see four of them tied to trees, head dipped low as they sniffed at the grass. Alethia's eyes continued their scrutinizing glance around the space, landing on the prince who loosely held a flask. His head was tilted back against the bark of the tree behind him; his mouth parted slightly. The prince's chest moved in the motions of deep sleep. She looked away from his heavily bagged eyes and stubble cheeks.
On the ground near the prince laid the Nixian princess, Sephirah. The woman sprawled out on a twisted saddle blanket, her leg thrown over the boomerang next to her. Snores came out of her open mouth along with drool, which trailed down her chin.
Alethia felt a flicker of disgust, her face remaining impassive. She sat up further, the grey cloak lying over her shifting down her body. How long had she been asleep? Where were they?
A shadow moved at her side, and her head whipped to search the bushes as she pushed the cloak off of her body. Wolves howled in the distance. She tensed, the sharp object beneath her thigh digging in more. Alethia's hand instantly went to her side, relief flooding her as she grasped the red-laced hilt of her sword. Heart thundering with anticipation, Alethia kept quiet as the bushes rustled and a figure stepped out of them.
The familiar silhouette stepped into the moonlight. As Alethia's eyes went to his icy blue ones, a strange flood of relief went through her. He'd braided his long black hair into four thick braids going straight back, flowing down his backside. A dark shadow from his growing stubble shaped his sharp jawline and made him look even rougher.
He lifted a gloved hand, fingers exposed. Ren beckoned at her, the look of puzzlement at finding her awake vanishing, leaving behind a grim expression. He jerked his head behind him before stalking off into the dark.
Alethia's lips pressed together at the indirect order, but she stood up soundlessly. Her knees buckled as if they weren't used to the weight of her body. She went after Ren on heavy feet, moving with caution as her legs prickled like a thousand needles were stabbing them. Wiping the crust from her eyes, she strained to see in the dim moonlight.
As Alethia pushed a low branch out of her way, she saw a river in front of her lined with various sized rocks. On a large one near the edge of the water, Ren sat facing away from her.
"Sleep well?" The noisy river swallowed his mumbled words.
She remained silent, walking over to the rock he sat on, a knee propped up to lay his arm across it. He stared out at the water as she sat down near the opposite end of the rock. Alethia took her eyes off him, licking her chapped lips with a sandpapery tongue. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was until she was looking at the water.
